Blessed With A Curse
by Taylor Sinclair
Summary: MCR fanfic, except they aren't really MCR...I just stole their names. I obviously don't own any of them. But I do own Story. And Hunter. And all the other characters that aren't in the band My Chemical Romance. Yep.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

_**Story**_

I sat on the ground, drenched in the rain that was falling around me. My long black hair was streaming onto my already soaked black jeans. I should have worn water proof mascara, because it too was sliding down my pale white face. I caught myself scratching at the silver scars that were scattered about my arms. It hurt so much sometimes. I chastised myself. I couldn't start again. I wouldn't start again. The ground I sat on slowly became muddy, so I stood up and made my way over to an inhabited park that no one seemed to go to ever. Maybe it was the graffiti and the sexual innuendos that littered the equipment that made moms shudder and keep their kids at bay. But, I had taken this place as my own. I sat down on an old squeaky swing and rocked gently back and forth. The street lights in the distance flickered for a minute before actually coming on. I could hear the hum of the electricity.

The rain started to pour harder and louder. I wondered to myself if my dad had realized I was gone yet. Probably not, I decided. He was probably to angry and drunk to notice anything. But, I couldn't blame him. The death of my mother and older brother hit us both pretty hard. I think he likes to blame me for it, because I was in the car when it happened. But, I was seated in the back seat of the car when the drunken truck driver smashed the front half of the car, killing them immediately. The truck driver was put in jail for twenty-five years on account of vehicular man slaughter. I ran my fingers over the scar on my forehead that I had resorted to hiding with my side bangs. That was the only injury I had. And so, since I lived, it only made sense that it was my fault. The more my father said it, the more I started to believe it.

I started to swing higher and higher, the metal groaning under my weight. I got as high as I could and closed my eyes. I could feel the cold wind biting at my nose as the rain slapped my cheeks. Then I jumped. My hair blew back as I tumbled towards the ground. My feet touched first, taking most of the impact. Then I fell to my knees and leaned over onto my hands. I took a deep breath and dug my fingers into the gravel that filled the park before I stood up. The rain didn't let up as I started to trudge home. The street lights burned out and the night went black. I could only make out the fine edges of objects. I collapsed into the middle of the street, scratching at the silver scars again.

The rain was pouring rather loudly that night, so you can't really blame me when I say that I didn't see the car coming until its bright headlights blinded me. The driver was barreling around the corner, and I couldn't come up with the sense to move. The car was only a few feet away from impact and I was completely prepared to take it; until I felt a warm pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist. It seemed like I flew from the street before tumbling into the wet grass with the arms. Before I could even say a word, the person was up and ran off into the night. The driver slammed on his brakes and fish-tailed a bit before coming to a complete stop and hopping out of the cab of his car, "Hey, kid! Are you okay?" He yelled. I stood up, shaking from the incident. No, I thought. "Yeah, I'm fine." I yelled back. "Come here, I'll give you a ride home." I wrapped my arms around myself and ran to the passenger door of his car. "What's your name, kid?" He asked after I was situated in the vehicle. Well, it definitely wasn't 'kid'. "Oh, my name is Story." My mum had a weird fetish for strange names. I felt bad because I was dripping all over his leather seats, but in all fairness, he had almost run me over. We turned onto my street and he stopped outside of my decrepit house. "I'm so sorry." He apologized once more before I exited the car. I slammed the door and the man sped away, leaving me in the still pouring rain. I couldn't help but look around in the darkness to search for the mysterious man whom had saved me from impending death.

My shabby house seemed to shake in the wind. It was like one of those houses you could see in the movies where the five year old girl was brutally murdered so now her and her mother haunt the entire place. It was grey and broken and was in desperate need of a make-over. The stone steps that led up to my dark wooden door were sinking into the ground making it so that you had to jump a little to get to the porch. The door was un-locked as always, so I opened it slowly, hoping to not be noticed. With my luck, the door creaked every inch of the way. I heard my father banging around in the kitchen before he stumbled around the corner with beer on the front of his shirt. He looked at me disapprovingly. "You're wet." He slurred before tumbling to the floor in a heap. "Thanks, I didn't notice." I answered sarcastically even though he couldn't hear me.

I found refuge in my bedroom. My mum had a really great idea where she would paint three of my walls black and then paint the biggest wall white. Then, she got a couple strips of Velcro and a small basket made for lockers and filled it with sharpies so that my friends could write on my wall. There was only a single flaw in her plan. I didn't really have that many friends so no one ever wrote on my wall asides from me. I had taken to writing quotes and drawing pictures; about half of the wall was filled with my musings. I changed into my warm pajamas and took out a sharpie. Racking my memory, I managed to scrape out a crude picture of the face I had seen earlier in the night. His brown eyes, round nose, pale lips and the distinct curve of his hood. I scribbled out the rest of his body, since I really didn't catch much else. I capped the sharpie and stepped back, eyeing the picture. I tossed the sharpie back into the basket and flopped into my bed. I clapped twice, shutting my lights off and fell asleep thinking of the strange vigilante in the night.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Gerard**_

I don't exactly remember the events that led up to me walking down her street. Maybe it was my strange infatuation with the quiet girl or maybe I was an unconsciously psycho stalker/molester. Probably the latter. But what I hadn't predicted was the car that came barreling around the corner while I watched her sit defeated in the middle of the road. It had taken no time for me to leap from my position in the foliage and roll her into the grass. It took all of my restraint to let go and run off before she could catch onto who I was.

The rain pounded onto the hood of my jacket, and I found myself dreading having to run up the dirt road that lied ahead of me. Or, more of a mud road now. It slowed my pace and splashed up all of my black clothing. My rickety old house was positioned at the crest of the road, hidden in trees. I slowed more as I drew closer. I could see Frankie looking at me through the window. He shook his head at me and left the window. You know it's bad when even your best friend doesn't approve of your nightly activities.

I had picked up the habit of saving people from a younger age. I was orphaned at birth, left on the cobblestone walkway of the orphanage. So were Frank, Mikey, Michael, and Ray; the other four boys I lived with. No one had wanted to adopt us because of our rowdy behavior and more so because we presented ourselves as a package deal. We grew to be seven years of age in that orphanage. And then it caught fire, sending everyone out side. Mikey had been afraid of the fire and ran into the nearby woods. We ran after him and couldn't seem to find our way back. After a while, we forgot to mind and grew up off of the land. Ray always referred to us as 'Indians'. We grew to be unusually fast and strong for teenage boys, not to mention the impeccable reflexes.

The government found us roaming on private property. Being the fifteen year old boys we were, we ran. When they had finally caught us, they had informed us that "they admired our spunk" and trained us at training facilities. It all seemed unreal. Until they sent us out to save people, that is. It was easy. It had always been easy. But I had a problem with following the rules. And when my actions finally caught up with me, so did the government. And we were sent into the world with the money we had stored in the bank. It was enough.

The door creaked on its hinges when I opened it. I guess there are prices for living on a budget. Mr. Winkles, Frankie's cat, started to hiss and paw at the ground where I was stood. I looked down at him and realized that I was forming a small puddle on the ground. He absolutely despised water. "One day, I'm going to toss you out into this rain." I hissed at him. "Gee, be nice to Mr. Whiskers." Frankie shunned me as he shooed away the cat. He tossed me a blue towel and I wrapped it around my shoulders, trying to slow the flow of water that cascaded down me.

"Went for a swim, did we Gee?" Mikey was lounged on our mediocre couch with his arms positioned underneath his head. I laughed and nodded my head. "Yeah, something like that." I kicked off my shoes and jogged up the squeaky stairs to my room. The door slammed behind me. I locked it and started to strip my clothes. I had just taken off my shirt when I looked out the window. I could see Story's house from here. The lights in her house flicked on and off. Then her room light. I could see her silhouette in her room. Then she disappeared and her lights went off. I sighed and shrugged out of my jeans and soaked boxers. I grabbed a pair of black boxers with little carrots dotted around them and slipped those on before I unlocked my door and went to lie down. There was a knock at my door. I groaned and beckoned him in. Frank opened my door slowly and stepped in.

"Gerard, what you did today was not okay. I thought we were done with this." Frank spoke down to me. "I know, Frankie, but this girl! She is something else! And what was I supposed to do, let her die?" I threw back. He rolled his eyes. "Be careful, Gerard. I don't think you know what you are getting yourself into." He recommended. "Right. Oh, and Frankie? We are enrolled in high school now. School starts on Monday." I tossed in. "Wait- what?" Frank looked stunned. "We need a good education!" I lied with gusto. "Gee…" He rolled his eyes again. "Night, Frankie." I ended the conversation before it could go any further. "Night, Gee." He mumbled before leaving. I curled up under the covers on my bed, shutting my eyes and immediately thinking about seeing Story at school on Monday.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Story**_

My alarm clock was insanely obnoxious. That was my first thought when I woke up on Monday morning. My hand was repeatedly slapping my night stand, searching for the snooze button. Finally, it came in contact with the cold button and the alarm clock was subdued. I groaned as I sat up; stretching my arms and yawning like a cat. My room was dimly lit by the morning light. Still, I clapped for my light and it flickered on. I spun, hanging my legs over the edge. I yawned once more and walked lazily to my closet. I turned my head to the window, it looked sunny. I took a pair of intricate fishnets, some black shorts and an old Asking Alexandria band shirt and tossed them onto my bed. I walked to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I grabbed my straightener and make-up from under the sink and slunk back into my room.

My mornings were very routine. I would get dressed and fix myself to look at least somewhat presentable. Then I would dig through my pile of rubber wristbands, picking out ones that matched the outfit or ones that corresponded with the band shirt. That would be all. Eating breakfast was never really a thing.

My keys sat on a key ring by the door. My dad's keys were missing, I noticed. He was probably passed out at the bar. It wouldn't be the first time. I picked my bag up off the floor and slammed the door shut behind me. My black sedan flashed when I clicked the unlock button. I carelessly tossed my things onto the passenger seat and pulled out of the drive. I was about to turn the corner when I saw someone waving me down.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

_**Gerard**_

I had arrived just in time. I smiled to myself, pleased with my secret accomplishment when Story pulled over. She rolled her window down and looked at me expectantly. I casually leaned onto her window. "Hey, Babe." I tossed in a wink. "My car isn't working, can I get a ride?" I lied. Well, sort of. My car wasn't working because, well, I didn't actually have a car. She hesitated for a moment. I took the moment to wink at her and smile. "Fine." She sighed as she opened my door. "Thanks, love." I smiled larger. I tossed my bag onto the ground next to hers and sat down. She didn't wait for me to buckle my seat belt before she started to drive.

The drive was silent for a while before she asked me a question. "Are you new?" I laughed internally. "Yeah, I just joined your school, senior class, 2012 baby!" I said enthusiastically. She giggled. I praised myself silently. "Oh, I'm a senior, too." She informed me. It's not like I didn't already know. "Maybe we could be friends, then?" I asked, actually hopeful this time. She looked at me, smiling crookedly. "Yeah, I guess we could." She laughed. I felt like dancing. Step one: accomplished.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Story**_

I think the funniest part was how he thought I couldn't see him dancing in his seat. I ignored all the snarky remarks I could make about his dancing…and the boxers with the smiling carrots that he was wearing. It was silent again for a short period of time, and it felt kind of awkward. I didn't really know what to say since I didn't really talk to anyone so all I could do was hope that this boy would start up another conversation. But he never said anything. "Hey boy, what's your name?" I asked. He laughed at my reference to him as 'boy'. "I'm Gerard, Gerard Way." He told me, almost proudly. "Well, hello Gerard, I'm Story. Would you mind if I put some music on?" I asked another question. "No, by all means, go ahead." He gestured to the stereo system. I smiled and turned on The Fray. Gerard looked at me, awed. "You listen to The Fray?" I looked at him, about to answer his question. But, when I looked at him, I looked directly into his eyes.

They were brown. They were brown and extremely familiar. I couldn't place them. The yellow and green tones… they were just like…just like… "Watch out, Story!" Gerard yelped and gripped the steering wheel, turning it sharply to avoid the oncoming traffic from the red light I had just run. My eyes snapped back to the road; I lost my train of thought almost immediately. I took deep breaths and tried to slow my heart rate. Gerard laughed nervously from the seat next to mine. "I didn't think that a simple question would confuse you so much." He joked. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah, I love The Fray."

But I still couldn't place those brown eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter 6**_

_**Story**_

The parking lot was practically empty. I had a habit of arriving to school early ever since the beginning of junior high. I told those who asked it was all about the parking perks, but really, I couldn't stand to stay any longer in that hell-hole house. Me and a few other select kids got here at this time and sat in the commons area for a while. But, new students tended to show up later, not wanting to stick out more than they already do. Maybe Gerard liked the attention. He was attractive, so I could see some reasoning, but otherwise he was just like the rest of them. I turned to talk to him after I parked and noticed that he was already peering at me. I ignored it and continued with my question. "Why were you leaving so early? For school, I mean." I asked him. His face went blank for a fraction of a second but he recomposed his facial expressions and smiled at me. "I wanted to make sure I was on time. I can't stand it when I'm late to things. " He informed me matter-of-factly, which was strange. He looked like the kind of person who didn't care whatsoever if he were late to a single thing. Actually, he seemed like the kind of person who would show up late on purpose.

Gerard unbuckled his seatbelt and slipped out of the car. I grabbed my bag from the floor and got up as well. "Thanks for the ride, love." He had his arms folded on the hood of my car. I nodded solemnly. "Yeah, of course. Anytime." I re-assured him. I locked the car and walked up next to him. "Well, school is this way so." I leaned my head towards the front doors and then started to walk. Gerard kept a brisk pace next to me. "Well, you walk rather quickly, don't you?" He laughed lightly. "Yeah, I get that a lot." I mumbled, not really paying much attention to what he was saying. My mind had wondered back to the brown eyes. I stole glances at him. I noted that several of the times, he was looking at me, too. But I didn't really mind. If he was looking at me, I could see his eyes better.

"Have we met? I mean, have we ever seen each other before today? I swear I recognize those eyes." The words fell from my mouth. His eyes widened slightly. "What? No. No we have never met. I have to go." He jumbled the words, making it all sound like one word. Then, he picked up his pace and walked away from me. Very Edward Cullen of him. I shook my head, trying to clear my jumbled thoughts. I knew him. I knew those eyes. I knew them.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

_**Gerard**_

She was very intellectual. I would give her that. I was a little marred by the fact that she had seen my eyes, though. If anything, I was mad at myself. I had to be more careful next time. There was not much I could do about it now, though. Still, I felt a little bad for leaving her standing there like that. I turned my head to look back at her. I was weak. She was already turned, though, leaning against a row of chipped red lockers, smiling up at a boy with floppy black hair and a smile. His right hand was braced on the locker right next to her hand so that he could lean towards her more. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled lightly before swatting at his shoulder lightly.

I would like to say that it was my instinct to protect her that made me turn on my heels and shove through masses of innocent students to get to her. But, the boy wasn't threatening. He wasn't even really all that intimidating, either. He was tall and scrawny with almost no apparent muscle. He looked like he belonged in a scream band, if anything. So no, it wasn't really that instinct that drove me towards her again. But I can pretend that it was. It sounds more heroic.

The boy was in mid-sentence when I stopped next to Story. "Hey Story! I forgot to ask you what your schedule was!" I said, effectively interrupting the other boy. Story looked back and forth between him and me. He scratched behind his head awkwardly. "Well, um, I guess I'll see you later then, Story." He waved at her. "Oh, yeah. Um, bye Hunter." She laughed inwardly. "Yes, bye Hunter!" I waved at him enthusiastically. He walked backwards into a drinking fountain before turning again and shuffling down the hall. I smiled to myself and turned back to Story. "So schedules then."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

_**Story**_

I was still trying to get the thoughts in my head put together when Gerard practically shoved his schedule in my face. I took it and skimmed down the page, reading the class and teacher as I went. "Oh, wow." I said, laughing slightly. "What?" He asked me, looking at me strangely. "We have all of our classes together." I informed him. "Whoa, really?" He asked. He didn't actually sound all that surprised. I ignored that. "Yeah, we do. Hmm. Cool." I handed it back to him. He looked smug. "So we have Art first?" He said, glancing down at his schedule. "Yes, I will show you where it is." I started to walk towards the back doors of the school. I looked back at Gerard and gestured for him to follow me. He walked up next me, looking slightly confused as we exited the school.

"Where are we going?" He asked. "Art." I replied simply. There was a wide dirt trail lined with stones that led to a largish shed on the top of a hill dulled brown with dead grass. The hinges on the door were rusty and worn from the various weather patterns that came whenever they pleased. I gripped the handle and yanked on it. The door opened with a loud groan. "Hey Martin!" I yelled as I threw my things onto a dusty counter. Gerard looked around the shed disbelievingly. I couldn't blame him. That was my exact reaction when I had first came here as a freshman. There were numerous blankets and tarps on the walls that we used in a sad attempt to conserve heat. There was paint splattered on everything. Paint brushes and pencils were tossed carelessly around the room. There were four bins on each table with pastels, crayons, charcoal and the occasional colored pencil here and there. A few of the tables had books under a few of the legs to keep them even. The teacher was constantly perched in the corner on a short lawn chair with a new color of paint on his face and lead on the side of his hand. He looked up when I came in and smiled. "Hi Story!" He looked at Gerard and smiled at him, too. "You must be our newest student, Gerard!" He dropped his sketch book and stood up. Gerard walked forward and shook his hand. "And you must be Mr. Cody." He stated. "Oh no, Mr. Cody was my father, that old bastard. I am Martin." He informed Gerard. Gerard laughed and nodded. "Alright, then hello Martin."

Gerard placed his things next to mine and looked to me for guidance. Martin started to speak again. "You have really brown eyes, don't you Gerard." Gerard's face dropped for a second before he recovered and smiled. "Yes, they were my father's." I had almost forgotten. The eyes. His eyes. Gerard's eyes. Those god damn eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

_**Gerard**_

It was easy to find myself wondering through various thoughts as Story continued to chat with Martin before class even started. She sat contentedly by my side while Martin scurried around the room, handing me a sketch book and pencils. They talked about previous projects and laughed at some of the idiotic things students had said in previous classes. I could see how much happier Story was as she consumed herself into this environment. It was a wonderful place, really. Everything was so un-organized but it all fit. The place seemed to have personality.

And Story fit perfectly into the picture. I couldn't imagine her looking much happier anywhere else but here. She leaned into the table attentively and smiled constantly. She seemed so grounded. So pleased. I really didn't notice that I was staring at her until I noticed her look at me a few times. Each time we made eye contact; she would blush and look away. It was adorable. I was looking at her eyes for the most part. They were a little bit of everything. Brown, then green, then blue around the pupil with specks of brown and gold everywhere. I was beginning to lose myself. There was the hum of a bell in the distance and students slowly started filtering into the classroom, bringing me back to reality.

Story's eyes flicked to mine again. She looked confused, like she was trying to piece something together. And I had hoped that she never would.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10**_

_**Story**_

The room grew uncomfortably loud as more and more people flooded the small shed that was our art class. There weren't enough tables for everyone so some students had taken to inhabiting the floor and counter tops. The final bell rung, forcing Martin to put down what he was working on and stand up to address the class. "Alright, children! Grab your sketch books and whatever else you feel like you may need! You know what to do." He emphasized words unnecessarily and used exaggerated hand motions when he spoke. Martin didn't even bother taking attendance; he just marked everyone as present and carried about on his own for most of the classes, only giving little instruction here and there. The other students began to scurry around, grabbing whatever it was they desired. I already had everything I needed. I fished through my bag and grabbed my sketch book. I took a pencil from the bin on the desk. It didn't have an eraser, something most people would find slightly annoying, but I didn't mind it. My mistakes were what made the art mine. I flipped to an empty page and started on the outline of a few tall buildings. I got up and walked to a drawer and collected a few different water colors. I could see Gerard watching me from the corner of my eyes but he was easy to ignore.

I started with a purple. But it wasn't a purple, really. It was purple mixed with reds and blues and greys. And that covered my entire paper. Then I had to repaint the buildings black. And that's exactly what it was; just black. It was my buildings. Bland and dull and lifeless just as they are in real life, but this time, with a purple tint in the back. Some kind of promise. And then I had to mix my yellow. It was orange tinted, though. Stark yellow wouldn't have done well. So I had my buildings. But the rest was all my purple. So I took that same purple and added more red. It started to lighten and made a warm pinkish color. I painted the bottom third of my paper with it, covering the purple. Then, I took that pinkish color and added a lot of blue, darkening the pink past the purple it was before and into an almost navy blue shade. This is the color that went on the top third of the paper. I held the paper up and let it drip onto a napkin below. The colors started to blend, losing the sharp contrast that the sky had. And when I laid it down, I had my messy night and a boring black and purple city with obnoxious yellow-orange lights. And I loved every inch of it.

And when I looked to see what Gerard had, I was taken aback for a moment. He had me.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Chapter 11**_

_**Gerard**_

Story had a real look of determination on her face when she painted things. Her eyebrows would scrunch together and she would wiggle her nose a lot. And when she finished something, she had a crooked smile revealing how pleased with herself she was. That was hard to capture. But it was seemingly easy to match the curve of her back when she hung over her paper. To copy the crease on her forehead or how one foot was perched on the rings of the stool and one placed delicately on the floor. To re-trace the way she assorted her arms or the curve of her lips. To mirror how her necklace hung in the air, swinging with each move Story made.

I didn't even really notice that I was drawing her until I was almost finished. I was just adding touches of color as to how the light reflected off of her hair. And when I really stopped and looked at it, I noticed. So did Story. "Is that…is that me?" Her voice wavered a bit between pleasantly surprised and border-line this-guy's-a-creep. I felt my face blush a bit. I didn't really know what to say let alone want to answer her question so I replied with another. "Is that me?" I gestured at her painting. She giggled a bit. "Yeah, isn't the resemblance stunning?" She tilted the paper a bit, as if when it hit the right light, it would suddenly look like me. "Yes, I suppose it would be. I mean, if I looked like a few sky-scrapers." I laughed. She smiled. "I could see it. You'd make a nice sky-scraper." I smiled, too. "You really think so?" I stood up with my arms pinned to my sides. "I've been working on it for quite some time, now." Story's hands covered her mouth as she laughed into them. It was quite adorable, actually. "I can tell." She managed to say between laughs.

She didn't seem to notice when the bell rang in the distance. Other students started putting together their things while Martin rambled out a few last things about contrast of colors and originality. "Story, I think it's time to go." I laughed a bit. She looked around a bit and shot up. "Whoops! Let's go." She tossed everything back into her bag and hung her painting on a clothes line by a few pins so that it could dry. "Okay so we have Creative Writing next, right?" She asked, smiling. "Right." I nodded, glancing at my schedule. She led me out the door and back down to the main building of the school. "Our next class is in the actual school, right?" I asked. She laughed. "Yeah, it's in the school."

I hadn't really noticed how cold I really was until we got back inside the warmth of the school. It was strange, really, considering we had about a month of school left. It was practically summer. I looked back out the windows on the doors. The sky was overcast and it was a bit windy. And it had smelt faintly of rain while we were outside. Rain was nice.

I followed Story aimlessly down the halls that were thinning as time passed. By the time we actually reached the class, it was practically full. Story slipped through the door, looking behind her to make sure I was still following, and sank into the back of the room. There were a few open desks in the back where she was situated, which made sense really. She seemed to like the isolation. And the desks weren't too great back here, either. I sat in the least hazardous looking desk. It only had a few cracks in the seat compared to the others which had a multitude of them. I wondered if Story had put them there, but quickly decided against it. I couldn't even see her hurting anyone or anything, let alone destroying it.

But I was wrong. I noticed it as she pushed a few stray hairs from her face. I don't think she was really paying attention and that's why she didn't immediately fix her bracelets as they fell down her arm. And I was met with a cascade of these purple-ish pink lines that marked her pale white skin. And I thought I had known all about this girl. And I had thought that she wasn't capable of hurting anyone. But I was wrong. She was incapable of hurting anyone but herself.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12**_

_**Story**_

I looked to Gerard occasionally, but who could blame me? At least I wasn't as obvious as the girls in the front of the room that turned back just to stare at him for a moment or two. But when I looked, he was looking at me, too. Not making the awkward I-just-caught-you-staring-at-me looking, because he was looking somewhere else. And I became immediately self-conscious of it, too. He was staring blatantly at my wrist. I clumsily adjusted my bracelets that casually adorned my wrist and a fraction of my arm, all the while my cheeks were flushed with what could only be a deep red from embarrassment. I buried my face in my hands. He wasn't supposed to see that. No one was supposed to see that. God, why was I so stupid? No one knew. No one. I had kept it to myself for such a long time and I was always so careful. And one careless move from me just erased all of it.

A small folded sheet of paper flitted onto my desk. I peeked between my fingers and then peered at Gerard. His attention was to the front of the room where the teacher was lecturing the class on the power of descriptive word choice. I sat up a bit and combed a hand through my hair. Then, I carefully unfolded the edges of the paper, trying not to tear it. Three words were carefully written across the top of the paper.

_Are you okay?_

I almost laughed. This question was so stupid. I didn't understand, really, how people could possibly be that stupid. Does it look like I'm okay? But it's not really something you go about sharing. I'm definitely not the kind of person to go around, sharing to the world that I'm not okay. So, I picked up my pencil and wrote in my hideous scrawl.

_Yeah, I'm fine_

I refolded the paper, using his folding lines as a guideline. When the teacher was facing the board, I tossed it lithely onto his desk. He shook his head a bit as he wrote back.

_No no no no no, I mean it. Are you really okay?_

I sighed. The idea of actually talking to someone about my problems was new and kind of frightening. I never liked to share my weaknesses and I really didn't want to ask people to deal with my problems when they have their own to worry about. It seemed selfish, really.

_I'm really okay Gerard, I promise._

I tossed the paper back to him and pulled my attention away from him. It hurts to lie.


End file.
